Developments
by orator
Summary: A Watery Oneshot-part of the Pretty Unpretty universe. M for implications.


Rachel didn't exercise much but she liked swimming. Playing tennis was all she needed to stay fit. And not eating so much.

She'd wanted a swimming pool as a child, but her mother had said no.

_So_ annoying.

Rachel would always have to use public swimming pools.

Well, she would rent them out, have them properly cleaned, and then use them. And only in the most exclusive of places.

She liked being alone because then she didn't have to worry about her bathing suits.

She'd gotten bored of bikinis and started veering towards skimpy, cut-out one-pieces. She was probably more covered up in a bikini.

The one she wore today was a slinky Stella McCartney, a silvery grey with strategic cut outs, which made her feel like a Bond girl.

Dangerous, yet sexy.

That was also why she swam alone. Her fantasies were so embarrassing sometimes.

She did several laps, enjoying the peace and solitude, constantly diving up and down, down, down—when she heard someone jump in the pool.

Her first thought was, who dared?!

And her second thought was fear. Who was in the water? She'd specifically signed it out for the day.

She was in a vulnerable situation and she was scared.

Maybe it was a drunk tourist. Which didn't help assuage her fears. He'd mistake her for a high class escort or something. Especially in this suit.

Whoever it was stayed under the water, and she slowly swam towards the edge, hoping to get to the phone to call hotel security…and have them all fired for their incompetency.

She was nearing the edge when she felt someone swim between her legs, and in her fright—she tried to kick, making contact—and then…Young Do emerged from the water, his lip bleeding.

Young Do! His time in the military had clearly served him well. At least in being incognito? Or camouflage? Whatever the art of sneaking up on people would be considered.

Rachel saw red, and smacked him on the shoulder as hard as she could.

And tried to kick him again. "What the_ fuck_ are you doing?!" She screamed.

He glared at her, touching his lip, "What are you doing?! I was just gonna join you!"

"Did I ask you to?!"

He was really annoyed now. He brushed his hair off his face, and said "You kicked me in the face."

She wasn't having it.

Her heart was still beating fast. "I thought you were some pervert! You can't just do that! Of course I kicked you in the face! I wasn't aiming for that though!"

He sighed, still dabbing at his lip, "I still haven't taught you self-defense. But…I guess I have taught you how to work your legs. Those were…some…moves."

The meaning of his words sank in, and despite herself, they warmed her. But she ignored it. She could be flustered by it later.

Right now she wanted to tear into him.

"Young Do you can't just do that! You really scared me."

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I thought you got my text…I said I was coming." He rolled his eyes.

She remembered casually mentioning it to him, not thinking he was actually going to come.

"I didn't think you'd actually come!"

"You asked me to book it for you. At my hotel." He pursed his lips, hair in a disarray, water dripping down his face, "Do you want me to leave?"

He looked so cute though, that she couldn't let him go. "No, no, fine, stay. But you can't do things like that!" She smacked him on the shoulder again.

She pulled herself out of the water, using the stairs and turned to him, "Look at my bathing suit! I can't show this to everyone!"

Even with everything between them, she always forgot. Always. That he was a guy. Who liked her.

That even though he listened to her blabber about everything and anything—like Lee Bo Na did, he was still Choi Young Do.

That even if she felt comfortable with him and could tell him anything, and he'd listen—he also liked doing things other than talking.

Rachel was always lulled by his sweetness and complacency—so she also sometimes forgot he was a full blooded male. He'd grown into a proper man. Even at 22.

He was still careful with her, yet he wanted her—but he'd never made it known to this extent:

His eyes had traveled up and down her body, twice, lingering over certain areas.

Clearly, he liked her bathing suit too.

And for some of the same reasons she did: it showed a lot of her skin. A lot.

"You can't show this to everyone?" He repeated back.

Rachel wanted to die. All the implications. And the air was cold, so she promptly got back in the water.

She splashed deliberately to distract him and cover some of her embarrassment. But he didn't let her.

He swam close to her and drew her into his arms, and hitched her up so her legs were around his waist.

She flushed—but he didn't care. He dipped his head and kissed her. The kiss itself wasn't so bad, but she could feel his chest.

There was only her bathing suit separating them. His hands were touching her naked back. And her legs were around his waist.

She wanted to continue, but at the same time she felt like she didn't.

They were…close…but they still hadn't gotten to that point. Yet.

And, as always, he knew because at that moment he—dunked her under the water.

She came up sputtering and blinking water out of her eyes, and he kissed her again, before swimming away, singing "Catch me if you can!"

* * *

They kept it up all afternoon, and she had fun. She couldn't stop shrieking every time he came near her, but she loved it.

He would swim up behind her.

In front of her.

Between her legs—that he did a lot…and she would scream and grab for his shoulders.

She liked it because she could touch him as much as she wanted, especially his shoulders.

And their legs would end up intertwined too.

Maybe he wasn't the _only_ hot blooded person in the pool.

* * *

It all came to a head when she tried to push him the pool.

They'd been sitting on the edge of the short end, and she wanted to pay him back for the continuous dunks.

She got up on the pretense of getting a towel, and crouched behind him, and shoved with all her might: he barely budged.

She knew he was strong, but she didn't know this strong.

He was surprised—he turned his torso to look at her, and she used it to her advantage and pushed him again, as hard as she could, and finally, mostly because he let her, he fell—no, he stepped in the water.

The struggle had left her breathless, while he was just standing in the water, staring at her like she'd lost her mind.

She had. The water barely came up to his chest.

Even though they both knew her efforts were lame, she stuck her nose in the air and said, "That's payback for getting my hair wet."

She didn't actually care about her hair getting wet—but she needed to say something.

He chuckled darkly and said, "You made me fall, I'm gonna get my revenge."

At once she regretted it. "Don't you dare. You already scared me earlier."

"And now I'm going to be scarier."

She almost whimpered. She didn't know what he would do. He was in the water, but he could get out in mere seconds.

She scanned the room, looking for defenses.

Ah ha! He was probably so intent on scaring her, that the idiot had left his clothes in a pile.

She quickly walked over, as he'd also started to move in her direction.

She'd grabbed his pants, when she felt herself being spun around, pulled flush against him.

"Just what are you planning to do?"

"I'll throw your clothes in the water, leave your phone outside—so you're not completely helpless, and then go home."

"Really? It's that simple?"

She pretended to think, "If you let me go now, I won't do it."

He tightened his hold.

"And if I don't?"

"You'll have no pants. Or shirt. And you'll be naked." She smiled cruelly.

Usually if she'd said something like that he would've pounced in an instant. Literally.

This time his face grew more serious.

"And what makes you think I'll be alone if that happens?" His voice had dropped octaves.

She stopped smiling. Their playfulness had turned too intense. And she wasn't sure what he meant…

"I can see the confusion written on your face. I'm just saying, if I end up 'naked', you'll be joining me too,"

She quelled the urge to burst into hysterical laughter. Mostly because his words were so…so…

She could only grab at his sides.

"Hmm, you're not running away. You've made progress."

She wasn't running away because her legs were shaky.

And…she wanted him to…continue…these were interesting developments.

Except, she was fascinated by his chest. No need to make eye contact. With him.

He was used to her behavior though, because he only said, "I don't want to test this newfound development, but if I wanted to, I'd say something about how you should join me in my shower, and we could soap each other's backs, but you look like you're going to faint, so I'll let you go ahead of me…we can do that later."

He released her, and she was having a hard time breathing.

Along with her lungs, her brain had also stopped working—

"Wait, Young Do, I was wrong."

He tilted his head in confusion and said "About what?"

There was Nasty Rachel. This was Stupid Rachel.

"You wouldn't be…naked…you're wearing shorts." She gestured at his shorts.

He looked down, and the back up at her. He sauntered over, and not touching her at all, bent down and whispered, "I guess that changes things a little…"

She waited.

"If you hadn't been wearing this…_contraption_…and a bikini or something, I would have just taken your top off…to match me…and then we'd get naked."

There was silence. And then a splash.

"Aish, Rachel, you idiot—there you go again…you dummy you're lucky I'm here to help you of the water."

She had finally gotten so frazzled she'd backed away from him…and into the pool.


End file.
